


Flood

by Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2020 (Part One!) [3]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Autistic Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Bad Things Happen Bingo, CPR, Found Family, Gen, Hard of Hearing Fun Ghoul (Danger Days), Hurt/Comfort, Nonbinary Fun Ghoul (Danger Days), Nonbinary Jet Star (Danger Days), Nonbinary Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), Temporary Character Death, Whump, seniverbal Kobra Kid (Danger Days)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24704683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth/pseuds/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth
Summary: Rainy season in the desert is a double-edged sword.
Relationships: Fun Ghoul & Jet Star & Kobra Kid & Party Poison (Danger Days)
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2020 (Part One!) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767937
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32





	Flood

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for: general angst and temporary character death.

The rainy seasons in the desert are a time of rejoicing, of celebrating. It’s proof you’ve lived another six months, it’s hope you’ll live to see the next. 

The rain does more than just boost spirits, too; it cools the overbearing heat of the desert, it nourishes those few plants that manage to grow here, and it provides protection from BLI for a few blessed weeks. Their chemical bombs are less effective in the rain, and Draculoids aren’t surefooted enough to do more than scramble through the wet and shifting sand, easy pickings for even the least experienced Batt Rat. 

But as with most things in the desert, the rainy season is a double-edged sword. 

The Fabulous Four are camped out by the base of a ravine after a clap, too late to return to the diner tonight. Poison picked out the campsite, protected from attack on both sides by tall rock walls, a narrow stream providing fresh water. They and Jet pull blankets out of the trunk of the trans am, while Kobra snatches Ghoul’s lighter from where they’re trying to start a fire. Ghoul grins, and pulls out another lighter, dodging when Kobra ducks in to grab it. Kobra tackles them, and eventually overpowers Ghoul, taking the second lighter, sticking his tongue out at Ghoul and striking a triumphant pose. Ghoul pulls out a third lighter and resumes igniting the fire.   
“I’ll head upstream and see what stuff I can find f’r food”, Jet Star says, shutting the trunk of the am with a bang, holding a flashlight in one hand. Ghoul’s looking away when he talks, so Kobra waves a hand in front of their face and translates. Poison hugs Jet Star goodbye, before dropping onto the sand beside their brother. 

The three of them joke and laugh around the fire for a few minutes, when a thunderclap shakes the desert, cutting Kobra off mid-sentence. And all of a sudden, sheets of rain are pummeling the earth, sending the killjoys scrambling for the car. Once inside, Ghoul says, more serious than the Venom Brothers have ever seen them,  
“We need to get Jet. And we need to get out of here.”  
“Scared of the rain, Ghoulie? I d—“  
Kobra cuts them off with a light tap, signing,  
“F-L-O-O-D.” Poison’s face goes pale.   
“Oh. Oh shit.” They scramble back out of the car, heading towards where they last saw Jet, but Kobra and Ghoul drag him back, Ghoul taking the lead. They’re trapped. The ravine, once protective, now leaves them with nowhere to go, and the sound of water thunders down from upstream. Ghoul drags the others to a boulder, about ten feet tall, and together they and Kobra hoist Poison onto the rock, who helps each of them up. And together the three of them huddle as a wall of water bigger than anything they’ve ever seen bursts from around a bend, the rain still coming down around them. The trans am gets swept away in the flood, crashing into the walls of the ravine, and the three killjoys on the boulder lean as far away from the foaming water as they can, terrified of slipping into the flood. 

And the sky clears suddenly, and the stars return to the sky, and not long after, the water recedes, the stream barely larger than it was when the killjoys set up camp, not an hour ago. Cautiously, they slide down from the boulder, stumbling on the unstable wet sand. They head downstream together, silently, in search of their missing member. 

Fun Ghoul’s the first to spot him, crumpled against a rock that must have caught him and held him against the torrent of the flood. No longer stumbling wearily, they sprint to Jet Star’s side, turn him over onto his back, check his pulse at his wrists. Check his pulse at his neck, because they can’t find it on either wrist. They’re silent, grabbing uselessly at Jet Star’s jacket with their other hand as they feel for something too weak to pick up on. Frozen for a second too long— they’re wasting time, precious time—, Fun Ghoul throws themself onto Jet’s chest over and over in no particular rhythm, until Party Poison shoves them away and takes over, alternating breaths and chest compressions over and over and over. Ghoul goes to push themself off the ground and breaks off with a cry of pain— while attempting CPR, they’d jammed their wrist half out of place. The pain of re-setting it clears Ghoul’s mind somewhat, and they stumble over to the Kobra Kid, who’s hunched on the ground, signing to themself so fast the gestures blend together incomprehensibly. Ghoul puts a hand on their shoulder, just enough pressure to break through his thoughts. Kobra shakes their head rapidly when Ghoul does so, panic in their eyes.   
“What’s up?”, Ghoul signs, and Kobra launches back into the same repetition. Ghoul eventually makes out  
“C-A-R-D-I-O-P-U-L-M-O-N-A-R-Y R-E-C-U-S-C-I-T-A-T-I-O-N. 10 to 20 percent success rate in hospital. Survival unlikely.”   
“Cherri’s books?” Kobra nods, still signing the statistics. Ghoul doesn’t know what to say. Jet Star himself would tell them to have faith in the Witch, but to Ghoul, that sounds like a hollow promise. So instead, they wrap their arms around Kobra, who leans in to the hug, hands still flying frantically, and together, they rock side-to-side, facing away from Poison hunched over Jet’s body. 

Poison breathes air through Jet’s lungs, falsifies the motion of a beating heart to pump Jet’s cooling blood through his body until they’re exhausted. And they keep going through the motions as tears stream down their face, his own breathing ragged and interspersed with sobs. They keep going as they hear Jet’s ribs crack under their weight, bringing their lips up to Jet’s, now blue. Finally, Ghoul pulls him off of Jet, just as Poison had done to them, and the three remaining members of the Fabulous Four huddle around the body of Jet Star. They sit vigil for hours, Kobra cradling Jet’s head in their lap, Ghoul and Poison each holding one of his hands. 

And Jet Star wakes up. 

It’s Poison who notices— the Kobra Kid’s eyes are squeezed shut, tears leaking from them nonetheless, and Fun Ghoul is studying the middle distance like they’ll break if they look anywhere else. So it’s Poison who notices the color and warmth flood back through Jet Star’s body, Poison who locks eyes with Jet Star as he comes back to life. His eyes, once staring unfocused towards the sky, meet Poison’s and Poison sees the moment the pale brown of his irises flood pure black, a memento from the Witch. Poison doesn’t know what to say, and they stare at each other until Kobra, and then Ghoul realize. Kobra screams, more from the built-up release of anguish and joy and awe than from fear, and Ghoul jolts back, both hands going to the volume on his hearing aids. Jet Star chuckles, winces.   
“Ow, Poison, think you broke my fucking ribs.”   
“The hell, Jet? You died!”  
“Yeah. Met the Witch. Got lucky.” Ghoul splutters, indignant at the mention of Her more from habit than anything else. Then they go quiet again. Kobra’s still supporting Jet’s head in their lap, their hands gripping his shoulders like a lifeline, knuckles pale from how hard they’re squeezing. Jet doesn’t seem to mind the contact, a constant reminder he’s back in the realm of the living. And Kobra whispers, hoarse, and loud enough for them all to hear,  
“Love you, Jet Star.”   
“I love you too. I love you all.”

The Fabulous Killjoys are together once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaand here we are! Come find me on tumblr or request a prompt for my bingo @wishiwasthemoon-tonight!!  
> And as always, if ya liked this, leave a comment! It doesn’t have to be much, but I’d love to know what you think!! :D


End file.
